


Threat of Time

by Valkywrite



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Child Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exile, F/M, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkywrite/pseuds/Valkywrite
Summary: Cal Kestis has a new fate: to ensure that an incomplete copy of the now-destroyed Jedi holocron doesn't lead to the deaths of more children. A new inquisitor intentionally misses her opportunity to capture Cal in order to allow him to seek out her child and prevent Vader from eliminating a “potential threat.” Cal must trudge through more post-Purge hell in order to do so. Written as an unofficial sequel.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

# Threat of Time

* * *

**Summary** : Cal Kestis has a new fate: to ensure that an incomplete copy of the now-destroyed Jedi holocron doesn't lead to the deaths of more children. A new inquisitor intentionally misses her opportunity to capture Cal in order to allow him to seek out her child and prevent Vader from eliminating a “potential threat.” Cal must trudge through more post-Purge hell in order to do so. Written as a sequel.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Star Wars: Jedi Fallen Order, but damn would I like to. Such a daggum good game—haven't had a game make me cry in a long time. This game should've been the new movie series, but no. HAD to make it a video game. Oddly enough, considering I can mod the sucker, I'm not complaining.

 **Tags** : Cal/Merrin, torture, PTSD, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, implied child death, exile, human trafficking, sequel, manipulation...more tags to come possibly.

You get the idea.

* * *

**Prologue**

It wasn't the first supply run the Mantis had performed for the rebels nor was it the last. The Empire still had a strong chokehold on Kashyyyk, trying to leech it for resources. However, by the rebels remaining mobile on the planet, the rebels always found a way to clear the ground and ensure the Wookies had a higher chance at survival and a life on their beautiful, albeit damaged, home planet.

The Mantis whirred as Greez slightly tilted the helm to the left, allowing for it to gently descend past Kashyyyk's atmosphere, past the Empire's patrol ships. Stealth tech was rare for ships, but as long as they had Merrin, their advantage was clear and would be used on the regular. Merrin had become so accustomed to using her craft in this way that she managed to somehow replicate it in her sleep, always being aware, yet not always being fully conscious. While Greez shuddered to think of the witch on his ship as being so powerful to even be lethal while unconscious, he also found her oddly comforting nowadays. She had a playful aloofness that he found oddly charming, and her jokes were becoming more palatable as time between them wore on.

Cal on the other hand, well—he appeared tired. Perhaps of constantly running, being on the run, fighting for the rebels where he could and when he could. It was a miracle the boy had anymore stamina as he seemed to take on more than he could probably chew at any given time, even if that meant stuffing his face and running off to help gods knew where. Cal essentially had Cere, Merrin, BD-1, and Greez as support as staff now—Cere would often travel with him, ensuring the rebels were well stocked and healthy where she could to keep them in the fight, but oftentimes to help Cal get a second wind when needed. Merrin would occasionally travel with them as well, often to just explore planets she had never been to, or observe the Rebel Alliance fight against the Empire with all the detachment of a historian. She fought on occasion, most often alongside Cal when he was engaged in a battle of some magnitude. BD-1, ever the loyal droid, was always perched on Cal's shoulders, always ready to provide some sort of assistance when needed.

Despite all of the support, Cal's exhaustion was becoming clear. War is far less exhausting when there are other warriors to help carry the load. Cal was literally becoming a distress-call agent by his lonesome, and regardless of his exhaustion, doing a great job of it. In fact, the Empire was getting so frustrated by Cal's assistance, that they had begun plastering his face across multiple planets, demanding info on his whereabouts. If there were any planets the Empire was aware he visited, bounties were on his head. In fact, most morning's began with Cal asking, “Alright, what's my bounty for today?”

The credits were racking up against him, and Greez wondered JUST how long he would be able to avoid contact with his past regarding Cal. Those hunters were probably slobbering at the prospect of getting a fat stack of credits, especially in the ragged economy the war was causing. Considering how many resources were getting fed to the Empire, and how many suppliers were bullied into providing whatever the Empire needed, general populaces were suffering galaxy-wide. Food had turned to rations, basics had turned into supplies, and that which wasn't readily available was stockpiled by the greedy. The Empire turned a blind eye to price-gougers and prices on necessities skyrocketed. Even through donations, Cal and company were struggling to get enough food in their bellies some days, even with the help of Greez's ever growing terrarium.

Greez had assumed that today would be as any other day would be—a simple supply drop 'n run on some mobile unit the rebels concocted on the surface of Kashyyyk if necessary. However, he couldn't remove the grimy feeling in the pit of his stomach today—he assumed it was his own fault for allowing the bleeding gut plant to be a premiere dish in his stew the other day, but not even. This was something different and he couldn't quite place any one of his fingers on any one of his four hands on it.

Cal sat at the table, trying to focus on the news playing on his datapad. His head hurt from squinting at the screen so much at this point that he debated needing eye-correction from a medical droid somewhere. Cere was up front with Greez, monitoring the patrols as per usual, and Merrin was probably somewhere on the ship, meditating, if that was a good way to describe her levitating, chanting, and glowing eyes. Merrin was...strange, but so far, trustworthy.

* * *

He heard Greez yell from the cockpit that it was time to get some seat since they were ready to land. Cere had already insured that the cargo was ready to drop off and it was waiting at the door, ready to be rolled on out. As the ship landed, the gate opened, and the ramp came down. Cere rolled down the supply boxes, basically allowing them to be hurtled down as quickly as possible. Merrin released her mask on the ship, allowing the rebels a clear view of the Mantis sitting amongst the grounded trees. The comms beeped softly as Cere pushed the last box down the ramp.

“We're getting a call on an encrypted channel,” Cal stated as he pulled up the comms panel to allow the holo to appear. What now, he thought disdainfully. These types of calls were coming in on a daily basis, and he could only assume that someone out there desperately needed their help. Instead, a shadowy hologram popped up on the dashboard and it was the unmistakable uniform of a Sith Inquisitor. It was a woman clearly, and from what they could guess—tall, foreboding. She wore a dark cloak, hooded, with a mask beneath. So Vader had chosen his new Inquisitor it seemed. The rule of two had begun yet again.

“Ah, Jedi,” she said softly.

Her voice was not as deep as the late Trilla's, nor as enticing. It was almost gentle, kind.

“I have been meaning to put on a show for you now that you are here—if you don't mind, that is.”

Cal felt shivers go down his spine. Adrenaline was kicking in and he felt a strange lump form in the back of his throat. It had almost been a full **year** without any sort of indication that another inquisitor set had been elected. _**Almost a full year**_. And yet, here was this strangely quiet Sith Inquisitor, standing quite still on the holo, staring him down. “Where is here and what is the show?!” Greez butted in angrily, his grip on the helm tightening, his thick brow furrowing. The figure laughed softly, placing a finger to her lips.

“Do you often allow your subordinates to try and take charge of conversations so readily?” she asked. She began pacing back and forth, setting her hands behind her back. “Or is he just speaking out of turn? If so, you should have more control over those with whom you associate yourself.”

“He's not a subordinate and his word is just as valuable as ours!” Cal spat, anger spiking.

Cere must've felt this sudden change in mood as she crept to the back of the cockpit, focusing her attention on the holo on the dashboard. Her fingers began flying across the comms—Cal assumed she was warning the resistance about what was happening and to be prepared for a possible fight.

“Then, in answer to your question—Kashyyyk, coordinates are 523908 on the grid. The show will light up the sky—or at least I hope. I put a lot of work into it.”

The Mantis began an ominous rumble and Cal suddenly saw what appeared to be a dozen Tie-Fighters swoop down directly in front of them and began blasting the mobile rebel unit relentlessly. Not just blaster bolts, but grenades, rockets--whatever could incinerate the tar out of the mobile unit. BD-1 shrieked in terror, head spinning as he clutched Cal's shoulder.

“Why didn't we see them on our radar?!” Cal yelled. He was less angry about the radar malfunctioning and more irritated with himself: w _hy didn't I sense the danger? Why didn't he feel them? He should've felt them in the Force, but after reaching out again, he still came out blank._ It was as if there was a block in the Force he could not get past, almost as it wasbefore. 

Greez fired up the engines and banked left as hard as possible to escape the growing cloud of dust and lighted debris. The Mantis began to shudder as rocks, trees, and other objects began slamming her from all sides. Greez nearly started to hyperventilate as he tried getting the Mantis airborne. Cere was practically yelling on the comms trying to get any sort of response from the rebel units on the ground, but all any of them could hear was ominous static. A familiar green shroud covered the exterior of the ship—Merrin apparently realized the danger and cloaked them in just enough time to prevent the lethal shots from penetrating the ship's hull. They finally pulled up into the upper atmosphere of Kashyyyk, felt their stomachs drop as they crossed the threshold, and pulled up into the beginnings of space.

The holo of the new Inquisitor flickered, but remained on the dash. Cal felt as though his nerves were on fire, but did his best to suppress it. He could not risk losing control like this. Not now. Oftentimes, the Sith were just waiting for a reaction of some kind to play off of and the lack of control? That's what they wanted after all. There is no emotion, there is peace... He looked down at the planet below. A small part of the jungle was glowing white-hot. The rebel unit could not have survived that direct of a hit. How did they know where they were?

“Who exactly are you? Are you a new sister?” he asked, deep breaths causing his voice to shake, his grip on the dashboard tightening as he struggled to get a hold over himself. The constant tension was slowly fading from his body, even though he was still on high alert. Her figure nodded and the holo flickered once more, indicating Greez finally got them to hyperspace. He could feel the gentle pull of the Mantis as he saw the stars turn to streaks of light. His head began to pound as they progressed through hyperspace. Cal could only guess where Greez had plotted a course, but he hoped it was somewhere undisturbed, possibly even untouched by the Empirical forces, wherever that may be.

“Who are you then?” he whispered, the lump in the back of his throat tightening again.

“I am the Eleventh Sister,” she said, pausing. She began pulling at her gloves, almost absentmindedly as if she had little choice in a distraction from the current conversation. “They called me Hadassha...once.”

Something tugged at his memory—the name sounded oddly familiar. He wasn't sure where exactly he pulled the memory from, but there was something in the name. He heard it before from somewhere, but he couldn't exactly place it.

“Jedi Knight...Hadassha?” he asked. There it was, that flicker of a memory suddenly coming to light in his head. He could not remember what happened to her nor why she was a memory at all. There were so many Jedi at one point and it was hard to keep track. Oftentimes, Jedi met each other for the first time during the Clone Wars on the battlefield instead of in a council meeting or on planets in which the Republic was trying to gain ground.

“Ah, yes. I haven't heard that title in a long time.” She seemed to relish in the sound of it briefly, head bowed, hands flexing open. She raised her attention back to the crew of the Mantis.

Cere creeped towards the front of the cockpit, her attention now focused on the shadowy figure of the Eleventh. Jaw set, her voice came out deep and raspy as she asked: “What happened to you?” It was obvious Cere knew more about this former Knight than anyone else in the room. Hadassha removed her hood, laughed, and crouched, causing the holo to flicker even further. They could see remnants of dark curly hair from the back, mask still covering her face.

“Nothing of interest to the lot of you,” she hissed, rage apparent. The sudden change in the Eleventh's demeanor set even the normally stoic Cere on edge. She moved even closer to the dashboard, hands gripping the back of Cal's chair now.

“Why did you let us go?” Cere asked, her voice now shaking with a sense of urgency that Cal recognized all too well. “Does Vader know? Why would you allow this?”

 _Let us go?_ Cal thought. This hadn't been a narrow escape? This hadn't been a “we-barely-made-it-out-alive” moment? How did Cere know that? Was she really that aware of Hadassha's motives—did she know Hadassha from before? Hadassha paused. “No, Vader does not know. I wanted to speak with you. Alone. I set up that little light show as a distraction for the Emperor's right hand.

I have not entirely betrayed him, though I do have..a request to ask of you.” Cal leaned back in the chair surprised. This was new. Since when had any Inquisitor not attempted to kill them the very second they came in contact? This one on the other hand decided that the last of the Jedi were worthy of a tracking mission. Something didn't feel right about this. He grimaced whereas Cere, remained impassive.

“What is your request?” Cere asked, her fingers tracing her lips. This was a tell Cal had later come to realize meant that Cere was either deep in concentration or probing silently through the Force. Perhaps both at this point. 

“I need you all to find my daughter and ensure her safety because...she is on that _list._ ”

* * *

**Notes** : Oof, well, we're gonna see how this turns out because I've had sequel ideas running around in my head since I played the game...3 times.


	2. Opportunity

**Chapter 2: Opportunity**

Cere stared at the flickering holo in front of her. A child? Word hadn't gotten around that she had a child. The Jedi Temple and it's warrior inhabitants were often known for their gossip, but Cere had not even remotely heard of this happening within the walls. _That doesn't sound right,_ Cere thought. _Somebody wanted to keep this quiet._

“And that is precisely why I _**despise**_ the Jedi,” the Eleventh hissed, crouching down to hit their eye level. A strand of curly hair fell down from the back of her head. She stood up. “But that is also why I need your help. You have information I cannot access, you have resources I cannot access, and you have skills I could never access. I do not want Darth Vader to--”she cleared her throat, “--find her.”

_Psychometry_. Perhaps Cal was supposed to find something that would provide a lead to where her daughter had gone? The skill was often considered one of the most rare skills a Jedi could possess, especially useful in tracking.

“Where do we begin in terms of finding her?”

The Eleventh opened a secondary holo of what appeared to a long list of names, dates, and flicked the holo towards them. The comms panel began beeping as data began transmitting across the stream.

“Dantooine, on the outskirts of where the Clone War skirmishes were. She was born there. From there, she was taken from me...and while promised to remain in contact with her, I have not heard from her adoptive family since.”

The comms panel began to light up on the board and stopped beeping. The data was done transmitting but the files seemed to overwhelm the board—the temporary data being held was almost to large a size for comms to handle. If this was what they had for just a _sliver_ of data, who knew how much they would have later on.

“While you failed to have the Jedi holocron in your possession, the Second Sister managed to extract portions of the holocron's data,” she said. “As a token of goodwill and also... _ **payment**_ , I am sending some of this information to you in the hopes that you will use it wisely. My daughter is on that list. Once you have managed to find her, you will be rewarded with what we have entirely from the holocron. ”

Cere rushed over to the comms panel and began downloading it onto a data drive. She glanced over at Cal who was hunched in the seat, brow furrowed, and gloved hands practically gripping the dashboard. Cere could feel ebbs of defeat coming off him in waves. He was trying to mask the true feelings with a determined grimace, but even that was wobbly at best. He thought they had bested the Sith this round, but Cere could sense the absolute debris of his inexperienced naivety. There would always be ramifications, consequences to every action, especially the massive ones, and if Cal didn't come to realize that soon and figure out how to cope, he wouldn't stand a chance in the long run. A hard milestone to hit, albeit necessary.

Even so, Cere felt for the kid--he worked so hard to ensure that the holocron and all its data was destroyed, and yet, here the holocron's data was, staring him in the face. How were the Sith even able to open it, much less extract the info and put it into a comprehensible format? They had to have help from someone but Force only knew who. So many Jedi had been split and killed during the Purge that it could have been any Jedi who was captured under the empire's regime.

“You will be watched closely. I know the channels your operations communicate under. If you so much as attempt to betray my trust, I will make sure to _**personally**_ be in charge of you and the Rebels' demise. You saw what I am capable on Kashyyyk...and you would be wise to remember it.”

Her shadowy holo flickered once more on the screen before cutting off. The ship rumbled ominously, leaving a hollow silence in its wake.

Cal remained hunched forward, the muscles in his jaw tensing with every other rumble of the ship. She would need repairs after that little encounter, surely. Whatever had hit her would undoubtedly leave a mark Greez would complain about for weeks.

Merrin materialized in the jump seat behind Greez. She had observed everything as she usually did, but something about her observance felt different this time. Instead of offering advice or observing the exchange as one would a science experiment, she was frowning. She knew this was not what Cal had counted on, nor what they had all tried to avoid the year before last when they destroyed the holocron in the first place. Maybe it was compassion or disappointment, but Cere, along with anyone who came in contact with Merrin, had difficulty reading her.

“Cal--” Cere started.

Cal shot up from the seat. BD-1 made an inquisitive beep, hopped off his shoulders, and watched him as he tiredly dragged his feet. Cal waved off Cere and began almost slinking back to his quarters.

“Cal!”

Even Merrin called out after him, but Cal ignored them and if sliding doors could be slammed, it appeared as though they were. Cere gently put a hand on Merrin's shoulder to stop her as she started after him.

“Merrin...he needs a little time.”

Merrin brushed off Cere's hand and growled, “There is little time to sulk, and even you know this, Cere. A man cannot act like a boy when he is at war!”

Cere smirked at the oversimplification. Merrin had a lot to learn about the drive human emotions could carry, their consequences, even if a Jedi was at the helm. She supposed there was a naivety even Merrin possessed, even with her background: slow to trust and guarded.

“He is young, Merrin. Not fully yet a man, even. He still has a lot to learn,” Cere said softly. “He will have to learn to temper his...disappointment. This was a battle he probably feels as though he lost. And it's an immense loss at that—he probably feels as though he let a lot of people down as well as betrayed his order. We all know he didn't but...he knows that not everyone does.”

She looked at the holomap on the table, staring at the bright planets in orbit around their ship.

“You are right about one thing though. We don't have much time. We need to get to Dantooine to get a headstart. Plot a course, Greez. In the meantime, Merrin—I ask that you determine when or if we need stealth. I'll work on getting Cal up while the data downloads on the drives. Once we're there, we'll see what the data gives us.”

* * *

The landing on Dantooine was surprisingly easy. Cere half assumed that this was a well-laid trap by the Empire imploring the Jedi to go to the planet's now barren surface to be killed, recorded by drones, and to smash the hopes of the rebellion. The other half of her believed that Hadassha, former Jedi Knight, really _**did**_ want them to find her daughter and was desperate to do so. There were empirical patrol ships in the area, no blockades, nothing. Dantooine was the empire's once-taken land, now laid to waste after essentially stripping it bare. That made the landing easy. What didn't make it easy was Cal refusing to leave the safety and quiet of his quarters.

She knocked on his door, knowing full well the boy wouldn't open it but trying regardless. She rolled her eyes at this and whispered “Wellness Check,” into the door's entry panel. The door overrode the lock codes and hissed open. There was Cal, curled onto the bed, either dead asleep from emotional exhaustion or simply trying to avoid contact with everyone. Neither was ideal.

“Cal, we need to talk.”

Cal curled further into the small mattress. It was as if he hoped that by making himself smaller, he would be less noticed or less likely to be confronted.

“Later,” he mumbled.

“No, not later,” Cere said exasperatedly, sitting down on the bed next to him. “We don't have time for a 'later.' But we do have time for _**now**_. Cal, we need to look at the data the Eleventh sent us and figure out where exactly we need to start.”

Cal shifted slightly.

“It's probably a trap and you know it, Cere.”

She rolled her eyes. “I...considered that, but if so, why didn't she kill us before? She could have but she didn't. I don't believe that this is a trap. We would've felt it by now.”

Cal stared at the wall, the dark, blank wall. “I didn't feel it when she sent the battalion to take out the rebels on Kashyyyk either.” He began to fiddle with this right glove, picking at the frayed hemming. “Did you?”

Admittedly, that _**was**_ odd. It wasn't something they'd normally miss, “I didn't,” she sighed. “So there is something...there. But I'm not sure what. Perhaps some sort of dampener that makes it harder to feel threats, danger in the Force,” and she paused after that thought. “Maybe a type of culling, I'm not sure. That is another thing we'll have to find out.”

She put a hand on his shoulder gently, feeling the light layer of dust and grime on his dark-colored poncho. She brushed it off slightly, a job normally meant for BD-1, but she had instructed BD-1, ever the faithful droid, to wait in the cockpit while she attempted to get Cal set to rights. He didn't shake her off.

“We failed, Cere.”

Cere fought the urge to ruffle his hair. He was still so young—and after the victories they did achieve, a crushing defeat, even with a potential solution at their hands, he would still feel this as a personal loss and failure as he did when he survived his Master.

“We didn't fail. We didn't see this coming—no one did.” Cere said softly. She let her grip tighten on his shoulder: “You cannot take on the responsibilities of the galaxy by yourself. It is not your place, nor is it right. You can only do what you can and bear the consequences later. What you consider a failing...it's a little too high of an expectation, Cal. We can't foresee or control everything—that's not what the Force is there for. It is a guide, a presence, and while we can use it as a tool...it is not something we are meant to use to control fate. What's more, is that we cannot tip the Force for our own benefit and why the Dark Side is more dangerous than the Light. Our emotions, often wrong, should not control our use of the Force.”

Cal knew what she was saying was sound but had a difficult time inhaling, applying it. It was one thing to hear the words, another thing to absorb them and put into practice. He nodded and patted Cere's hand back in return.

“Cal, as hard as it is right now, we have to keep going. You have an opportunity to help reverse this. We have to start finding her now if we have any sort of footing for negotiations for that data.”

Cal frowned in thought.

“What if they intentionally give us the wrong data?” he asked. It was a valid question. They could have easily given them rabbit hole data to throw them off track.

“I don't feel that this the case. Something about Trilla's last words...they lead me to believe that perhaps she passed on something to the next sister before her death.”

Even after having rested, she could feel his general exhaustion. It was the wear and tear of war, she knew, but even before that. It was like a very slow, very nasty drain, and there was nothing that could be done about it besides taking out the filter and scrubbing it out. He would have to assist in the scrub down, but at least someone should initiate it.

“We're on Dantooine by the way. And I need your help to look at the data before we head out. It's rather quiet here, from the looks of things. A little like Bogano.”

* * *

Cere pulled up the data on the holo after retrieving the data drive from the comms. It popped up on the holo as a list format, with a map of the planets just above it. She flicked her hand across the names, seeing parents listed along with their offspring's names.

“There are so many names...” Cal whispered. “I didn't realize the holocron contained this much data.”

“This is only a fraction of data as well, and only a fraction of what the holocron itself had if we're to believe that they only retrieved a portion of the data since it's technically incomplete. Interesting, Cal...look at the dates.”

Squinting, Cal approached the holo table, and flicked his gloved fingers across to increase the size, only to realize what exactly she was pointing out. There were dates in the future listed. “You mean to tell me that some of these kids haven't even been born yet?”

Cere nodded. “We're going to have to separate the data between children born and children not yet born, apparently. But that's for another time.”

She selected Dantooine from the planetary map above and the list flickered to Dantooinian births. She narrowed the list to within the last six years. It was a fairly short list, with maybe 3 or 4 on the names. She was able to narrow by parentage and lo and behold, there appeared Hadassha's name with the name of the child on the list. Shae, a girl, now aged 6. Out of curiosity, Cere flicked to the second parent's name.

If possible, her eyes widened further when she read the name. _**Baristar.**_ She blinked to make sure she was reading the name right. B..a..r..i..s..t..a..r. It was right, and she wasn't hallucinating. “Cal—this is...perhaps we...Cal, do you remember a Master Baristar at the Jedi Temple? Does that name sound familiar to you?”

Cal stared at her, obviously confused. “You know I can't really remember much from that time, especially when the Clone Wars were going on. We met either in training or in meetings a lot—that was it.” His brow furrowed further. “Why? Do you know who he is?”

Cere nodded. “He was Hadassha's Master.”

Cal's eyes widened and BD-1, who was once again perched on his shoulders let out a beep of surprise as well. “That would be forbidden, wouldn't it?”

“Well, forbidden in different ways as well—definitely an offense to the Council, a probable offense with the government depending on the ages. But the Jedi liked to handle things in-house. I wonder if she was probably shipped off to Dantooine to escape prying eyes and to essentially keep her hidden. I never heard of what happened to Baristar, however.”

Cal suddenly felt what Cere was edging at. As if the thought escaped his mind and was transported elsewhere, Merrin, who had of course been eavesdropping as per usual, butted in. “So, she was banished while the man continues on as usual? Typical.”

Cal's mouth hung open and just as quickly slammed shut again. _Not gonna touch that one,_ he thought. _Not like I need to be hung up my entrails or anything._ He wanted to defend the Jedi here, but filling in the gaps—well, it wasn't too difficult.

It wasn't even disapproval Cere felt that Merrin had for the Jedi, but rather set expectations. “We don't know that,” she chuckled, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “And I'd rather not jump to conclusions at this point. We just need to find that little girl for now.” She closed the data file. “I suppose we start on the outskirts considering that's where I imagine the Jedi stationed her. Perhaps near the old Jedi enclaves nearby.”

Cere pulled up the map of Dantooine on the holo. “Cal, these will be your coordinates to start,” she said while forwarding the holo to his comms unit. He watched as the blue light appeared on the comm and dissipated.

Stepping forward and adjusting her tunic, Merrin brushed her hair away from her face and pinned it in the back. “I will join you. This planet seems old, interesting to explore. I would also like to see where this child went. No child should be left alone to these worlds under siege.” She gathered a pack of gear and handed Cal's his own. He took it hesitantly, but grabbed it, feeling a slight second wind give the stamina he needed to continue on. Within minutes they descended the ship's ramp, leaving Cere and Greez to guard the ship and monitor communications.

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, well, we're gonna see how this turns out because I've had sequel ideas running around in my head since I played the game...3 times.


End file.
